


Drunk Dialled

by Telcontarian



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, Blow Jobs, CEO Jareth, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Enemies to Lovers, Enthusiastic cunnilingus, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, PA Sarah, Riding Jareth’s Stupidly Large Dick Into Oblivion, Sexual Humor, Sexual Tension, Slap Slap Kiss, Unresolved Sexual Tension, and there was only one bed, no physical violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:20:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26017933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telcontarian/pseuds/Telcontarian
Summary: In which CEO Jareth King and his Personal Assistant Sarah Williams participate in an alcohol induced, verbal game of slap, slap, kiss.
Relationships: Jareth & Sarah Williams, Jareth/Sarah Williams
Comments: 44
Kudos: 155





	1. The Fuckening

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ViciouslyWitty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViciouslyWitty/gifts), [BustedBrain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BustedBrain/gifts), [bowie_queen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bowie_queen/gifts).



> I am sneaking my way back into the Labyrinth fandom after discovering and falling head first into the rabbit hole that is Reylo. 
> 
> This fic originated from an idea that came to me in the middle of the night and apparently, I found it interesting enough to scribble down on the notes app on my phone. Unfortunately, cue my utter confusion the next morning when I had literally no fucking idea what I had even written. I then asked my dysfunctional online family if any Labyrinth fanfics had ever been written involving a game of Slap, Slap, Kiss and decided to combine it with the following prompt borrowed from ViciouslyWitty's "How to Catch a Goblin King" which can be found [here:](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18443222/chapters/43691201)
> 
> "Fuck you."
> 
> "Fuck me yourself, you coward."
> 
> A massive thank you to my fellow scribes and harbingers of chaos for letting me bounce ideas off of them and let me borrow them as the inspiration for my supporting characters.
> 
> Without further ado, on with the shitshow!

“You think you’re so high and mighty standing there with your big, fuck off, wanker glasses and your big dick energy –“

Her fingers frozen over the computer keyboard, Catie frowned as she extracted the ear plugs that were both her most prized possession and a hot necessity at Royal Enterprises, the soft silicone doing little to muffle the commotion that was currently echoing from the CEO’s office.

“Might I remind you, Precious, that I am your manager and I will not tolerate this kind of verbal abuse –“

It was the same age-old argument, occurring at least twice a week in the confines of their shared office space: a verbal sparring between the CEO Jareth King and his Personal Assistant Sarah Williams, the expletives that they spat at one another in the heat of their disagreement clearly fraught with unresolved sexual tension. Catie glanced over at Tyasha’s workstation who had also paused in her work and was currently rolling her eyes at the screaming match that everyone in the office was privy to. They all knew that their argument would continue for hours; resulting only in a tense stalemate that would last until the next inevitable time that Jareth and Sarah butted heads and clashed horns over an upcoming project. Really, Catie and Tyasha knew that it was only a matter of time before they set aside their differences and just fucked it out of their systems.

“If you weren’t such an egotistical megalomaniac –“

Tyasha, satisfied that Jareth was still distracted and would not notice them leaving work two hours early, caught Catie’s eye as she reached under her desk and held up a bottle of gin that was still miraculously three-quarters full. Catie sigh with relief as she saved the document that she was working on, turned off the computer and pushed her chair back from the desk. They really did deserve their well-earned gin break she thought tiredly as she and Tyasha snuck past Jareth’s office just in time to wince as Sarah, almost toe to toe with Jareth poked the CEO hard in the chest, Jareth’s face almost purple with anger as he snarled back at her.

“I’m glad to see that your vocabulary has much improved. Maybe you could actually put your newfound language skills to good use when writing up your reports. God only knows that it would be an improvement to the usual drivel that you send me.”

Catie closed the door softly behind them just as the unmistakable sound of Jareth’s computer hitting the floor for the third time that month and dying a slow, painful death reached their ears. They settled themselves in the thankfully empty staffroom and Catie opened the bottle of gin with practiced ease, filling their coffee cups and clinking them together in a toast to the two idiots who they could only hope would finally get their act together and just kiss already. The office staff had already cobbled together a betting pool to see when Jareth and Sarah would finally give in to their primal urges and just get it over with. Each entry had steadily become dirtier and wilder over time, many imaginative scenarios and positions that could only be achieved through a lifetime of intense yoga and sexual depravity clearly indicating that the office staff spent far too much time reading smutty fanfiction when they ought to be working. Not that anyone could complain so far as over £500 had been raised already to help fund their Christmas night out.

Catie thought that Jareth would give in first and simply fuck Sarah over his desk and be done with it by Christmas, but Tyasha knew better and had betted that Sarah would push Jareth down on his office chair and ride his dick before Halloween. No one wanted to even think about Dirty Dave’s proposition that someone would walk into Jareth’s office just in time to see them indulging in a disturbingly detailed and frankly rather creative round of tentacle sex. No, some things just ought to be better left alone and preferably to Dave’s sick and twisted imagination in the dark and gloomy depths of his mother’s basement.

  
Either way, they thought miserably as they downed their drinks and Tyasha poured them each another healthy measure, when Sarah and Jareth finally got their shit together they would be asking for a raise.

* * *

An hour later Sarah stormed out of Jareth’s office, anger rolling off of her in waves and her teeth gnashing furiously together as she slammed the door behind her, vaguely disappointed that Jareth did not magically appear like the fucked up, fairy fucktrumpet that he was and pull her back into his office for another round of verbal tongue lashing. “Fucking men!” she yelled, throwing her hands up in frustration and glancing around the room, immediately noticing the absence of Catie and Tyasha. Dirty Dave looked up from his computer, disappointed once again that Jareth and Sarah had not finally given in and indulged themselves in wild, octopus sex. She grabbed her mobile phone from her desk, a soft frown tugging at her lips as she typed out a quick message into their group chat.

SARAH: Where are you both???

TYASHA: We’re at The Castle.

SARAH: It’s only Wednesday.

CATIE: Yeah, but it’s karaoke night.

SARAH: Did you open the emergency gin again?

TYASHA: MAAAAAYBE.

SARAH: Fine I’ll be there in half an hour.

Sarah did not even spare a moment to feel ashamed about her lack of work ethics when she did not think twice about gathering up her coat and handbag to join her friends in the pub, raising her middle finger in a mock salute as she passed by Jareth’s closed door where she could still hear him banging his head off of his desk in frustration. Fuck him she thought miserably, resolutely ignoring her traitorous body that had perked up at her unintentional double entendre and helpfully flooded her mind with inappropriate images of her and Jareth’s sweaty, naked bodies writhing together under silken sheets that made even Sarah blush. She highly doubted that some of the highly creative sexual positions that her brain had conjured up were even physically possible. She also tried to convince herself that the flicker of desire she could feel burning low in her belly was only due to the unfulfilling result of the sad hand jobs and unenthusiastic cunnilingus that she had been forced to endure in her last two hook ups, and not because she wanted to climb Jareth like a fucking tree.

She did not think that it would even be possible to look Jareth in the eye tomorrow. She really needed to get laid.

* * *

When her alarm went off at 6.30am the next morning, Sarah wanted to die. A wave of nausea rolled through her body and she moaned pitifully, her stomach threatening to expel the contents of the countless margaritas and eventually, tequila shots that Catie and Tyasha had imbibed her with.

“It’s not fair!” she vaguely remembered screeching in her drunken state, the barman wincing as Sarah lay her head down in the puddle of beer and saliva that had been spilled on the countertop. She was barely aware of the fat, balding middle-aged man with a beer belly standing at the karaoke stand who was currently murdering her eardrums to the tune of “Sex on Fire.” Hell, she wouldn’t even bring herself to care right now if someone actually set her sex on fire if it meant an end to her embarrassing dry spell. The last of her fucks had officially been given after Tyasha and Catie had spent the last three hours plying Sarah with alcohol while they coaxed out their friend’s deepest, darkest desires from her unresisting brain. “Jareth could rearrange my insides with his massive dick and I would probably still thank him for fucking me through the headboard," she lamented. "Why do all the assholes have giant dicks anyway? Is it too much to ask to get the dicking down of my life and not have to worry about the man attached to the end of it? His dick is going to shrivel up and die a blue balled death because he’s such an arrogant prick.”

Tyasha patted her back in sympathy while Catie cheerfully handed her another shot of tequila. 

Sarah rolled over in bed to silence her phone, thankful that some minute rational part of her brain that had somehow not been affected by alcohol had remembered to plug her phone in to charge overnight. She frowned as she scrolled through a dozen text messages, each one more frenzied and slightly hysterical than the last.

CATIE: GIRL, ARE YOU OKAY???

  
  
TYASHA: For the love of God, please let us know you’re still alive.

CATIE: I fucking knew it, he murdered you with his massive cock, didn’t he?

What the ever-loving fuck were they even talking about? Sarah frowned at the text messages in her alcohol induced brain fog, uncertain why her friends would even ask that when she had clearly gotten home safely and was tucked up in her own bed thinking about taking a sick day for the first time in her adult life. She snorted inelegantly as she imagined the thunderous look on Jareth’s face if she phoned in sick and she whimpered when her head throbbed as the sound was amplified tenfold.

Sarah squeaked in surprise when an arm snaked around her waist, drawing her body back against a warm, firmly muscled chest and a contented sigh rumbled through the man behind her, her brain helpfully informing her that it was indeed a man at the feeling of the large erection poking insistently against her backside. Oh god, if she went home with that fifty-year-old bald guy on karaoke last night she would wait for him to fall asleep and then chew her own fucking arm off before attempting to sneak out of her own apartment. She only hoped that Tyasha or Catie would put her up for however long it would take while she burned her bed and fumigated her home of his presence. Maybe she should call a priest to bless her house for good measure.

Just as Sarah was about to close her eyes and hope to God that when she woke up again she would find out that it had all been a horrific, tequila induced nightmare, it was only then that she realised she was naked. And so was the man who was currently happily spooning her, his body heavy with sleep as he half pressed her into the mattress, his warm breath caressing her ear like a lover’s touch and his sinful lips ghosting over the delicate shell of her ear.

“Go back to sleep, Precious,” murmured an achingly familiar voice and a shard of ice pierced through Sarah’s heart, dread settling heavy in her stomach as the identity of her sleeping companion was finally revealed and for one heart stopping moment, Sarah’s traitorous body was tempted to do just that. “It’s too early.”

Fortunately for Sarah, her rationality decided to finally make an appearance at long last and her subconscious pouted its disapproval. “What the fuck, Jareth?” she screeched, tugging the blankets firmly around herself as she scrambled away from her boss. Unfortunately for Sarah, covering her naked form had slowly pulled the sheets away from Jareth’s body, revealing him like a work of art and she could only watch in half-hearted horror as his strong, lithe body that seemed to be carved from marble was unveiled for her perusal. In spite of herself, her eyes immediately dropped to the impressive package nestled at the apex of his thighs, silently taunting her that if she only reached out to wrap her fingers around it, his penis would not only show Sarah her dreams, but would also fulfil every perverted fantasy she had ever had and would undoubtedly ruin her for all other men. Death by dicking had never looked so fucking good.

“Fuck,” she whimpered, wondering if it would fit inside her, even as her brain helpfully provided her with a plethora of sexual positions and invited her to pick her favourites.

“See something you like, Precious?” he asked smoothly.

“Not really,” she replied, but the lie was ruined by the tightening of her nipples against the silken, midnight black sheets and the crimson blush that was currently staining her cheeks. From the feral grin that was rapidly tugging at Jareth’s lips, Sarah knew that he had not bought her lie either. “Why are you in my bed?”

“I can assure you, Sarah, that I am not in your bed. You are in mine.”

Sarah spluttered indignantly, but even as she glanced around the unfamiliar bedroom she knew without question that Jareth was telling the truth. “How did I even get here?”

Jareth frowned, reaching over to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Sarah’s ear and she wrinkled her nose in disgust when she inhaled the pungent aroma of cigarette smoke and vomit that clung to the sticky strands, caked in god only knows what that she didn’t even want to deal with right now. “Unfortunately, you decided that it would be a good idea to drunk dial me at 1am this morning.”

  
  
“Oh God no,” she groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I don’t remember any of this.”

Jareth smirked. “No? Thankfully for you, Sarah-mine, I most certainly do. In between screaming over the phone about how much you hated me and would not sleep with me even if I was the last man on earth, you were crying that you wanted to ride my stupidly large dick into oblivion just once to know what it would feel like.”

“I didn’t.”

“You most certainly did, Precious,” he replied and the bastard sounded like he was thoroughly enjoying recounting her debauchery. “Fortunately for you I can be generous. Despite my ire at being woken up in the middle of the night by my irrationally irate employee wanting to both murder me and have me murder her with my cock in equal measures, once I determined your location I offered my services to pick yourself and your friends up from the pub and make sure that you all made it home safely.”

  
“That _still_ doesn’t explain why I woke up in your bed.”

“You passed out in my car before you could provide me with your address.”

“Did we – you know?” she mumbled, unable to meet his eyes as she made an obscenely rude gesture with her hands.

“I don’t make a habit of engaging in alcohol induced intercourse,” Jareth replied coldly.

“If we didn’t have sex, then why are we both naked?”

“Your clothes were covered in vomit. I had no choice but to provide you with one of my shirts to sleep in. After putting you to bed, you then proceeded to strip off both your clothes and mine and drag me into bed with you to try and make good on your promise to ride me into oblivion. I had to respectfully decline.”

“Please tell me this isn’t happening.” Sarah yelped as Jareth reached over to helpfully pinch her. “Oh God, this really is happening. I’ll hand in my resignation. I’ll move to Alaska and become an Inuit.”

Jareth rolled his eyes as he turned away from her to climb out of bed and despite her best efforts, Sarah’s eyes traced over the exquisitely toned muscle of sculpted backside that Jareth presented to her, clearly at ease with his own body and unashamed of his nakedness.

_Sarah, no!_ she reprimanded herself.

_SARAH, YES!_ her brain replied enthusiastically.

“And I thought I was dramatic. What do you want for breakfast?”

In spite of her stomach growling with interest at the prospect of greasy, fried food to mop up her hangover, Sarah could feel herself growing angry with the way that Jareth was so blatantly ignoring the fact that she had drunk dialled her boss and practically offered herself up to him on a silver platter. He was well within his rights to fire her on the spot, or at least contact HR to file a sexual harassment case against her and yet here he was casually inviting her to stay for breakfast.

Forgetting her nakedness, Sarah threw the covers off of her in a fit of rage before storming over to Jareth and prodding him square in the chest with the tip of her finger. To his credit, Jareth managed to keep his eyes on her face for longer than she thought possible before dropping to ogle her bare breasts.

“Just so you know, buddy,” she spat, even as a tiny neurone rebelled against her and wondered if Jareth liked what he saw. “Any sexual comment that I made last night was the result of one too many tequila shots and definitely not because I find you attractive and want to screw your brains out. I was horny all right? And you were conveniently there for me to scratch that itch.” Sarah almost faltered under his withering gaze as she fought against taking a step back at the fury that seemed to emanate from every inch of his admittedly mouth-watering physique and instead raised her chin stubbornly to draw his gaze from her chest.

“Keep telling yourself that, Precious,” Jareth replied coolly. “I think you’ve already made your intentions towards me quite clear.”

“Get over yourself, Your Majesty,” Sarah scoffed, and to her dismay tears of frustration were beginning to pool in her eyes. She would be damned if Jareth saw her crying though. “I would rather sew my flaps shut than sleep with you.”

“Fuck you, Sarah,” he growled.  
  


Her anger boiled over and even in her hungover state, Sarah knew that she was toeing the line into dangerous territory and pissing all over it like a territorial tom cat. Still, her subconscious was torn between waving frantically at her to get her to stop and cheering her on, still dreaming about riding Jareth’s massive dick into oblivion now that she finally had a basis for comparison. “Fuck me yourself, you coward.”

“Why Precious,” Jareth crooned, tucking his hand under Sarah’s chin and tilting her face towards him, his eyes glittering dangerously and his lips parting in a filthy smirk that, much to her dismay, sent a trickle of desire straight to Sarah’s core. “I was beginning to think that you would never ask.”


	2. Truth and Consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m incapable of just leaving things alone. I originally felt that the ending to the previous chapter was satisfying enough to just conclude the story, but then I realised that I didn’t quite address the unresolved sexual tension and that if I didn’t give Jareth and Sarah the sexytime that they deserve, I would just be as bad as Captain Cockblocker herself.

The shrill ringing of his mobile phone roused Jareth from a deep sleep and he reached blindly over to his bedside cabinet to retrieve the offending object, squinting in the dark and frowning when he realised who was calling him. Against his better judgement, he answered. “Why are you such an arsehole?” wailed an annoyingly familiar voice and Jareth cursed fluently as he glanced blearily at his alarm clock to find that it was almost 1am.

“Sarah?” he growled, dragging his hand through his sleep tousled hair and rubbing at his gritty eyes. “This is highly inappropriate. I expect you in my office at 9am tomorrow morning to discuss this little matter, am I clear?”

“I bet your cock is huuuuuge.”

Unfortunately for Jareth, he choked on the sip of water that he had chosen to take at that particular moment in time and he spluttered, his face scarlet even as his cock stood hopefully to attention. “Come again, pet?”

“I said – oh my god, they sell deep fried Mars Bars?! – I don’t know whether to murder you sometimes or ask you nicely to murder me with your enormous cock.”

Jareth sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Are you drunk?” Sarah hiccoughed. Stupid question. Of course she was.

“It’s not fair!” she moaned plaintively, in her alcohol induced haze completely ignorant of the fact that she was standing in the middle of a crowded pub spilling her heart out to her boss of all people about her depressing lack of sex. “Why can’t I find a nice man with a nice dick to politely murder my vagina?”

“It must be your stellar personality,” he deadpanned and he could feel a flicker of amusement at her antics in spite of himself.

Sarah sniffed and Jareth groaned, feeling like a complete dickhead at the thought of him making Sarah cry. “I’m sorry, that was unfair of me.”

“No – no you’re right,” she muttered quietly, her voice thick with tears, and Jareth pressed his mobile phone closer to his ear to make out the rest of her softly spoken words, barely audible over the sound of someone with absolutely no musical talent whatsoever attempting to sing karaoke. He only hoped that someone would find the poor sod and put him out of his misery soon. “I wish you weren’t such a fucking cunt so that I could just ride your stupidly large dick into oblivion.”

“Oh?” he purred and he groaned when his aching cock became impossibly hard. He settled back against his pillows, reaching a hand beneath the waistband of his sleeping trousers to free his erection and take himself in hand, stroking his cock from base to tip and swirling his thumb around the already weeping head. “Please continue.” Admittedly, it was not exactly the way that Jareth dreamed that he and Sarah would finally get together after almost three years of arguments positively dripping with sexual tension on a daily basis but beggars can’t be choosers.

“I wouldn’t sleep with you even if you were the last man on earth.”

Jareth blinked in confusion and his erection died a painful death. “Unless my ears deceive me, Sarah-mine, I believe you just admitted that you wanted to have sex with me.”

“Oh my Goooood, Jareth, you can’t just ask a girl to have sex with you!” she giggled and suddenly, there was a great clatter as Sarah presumably dropped her phone followed by the unmistakable sound of retching.

His dreams of phone sex slipping further and further away by the second, Jareth sat bolt upright in bed. “Hello? Sarah? Are you alright?”

He could hear footsteps, and the quiet murmur of soft words of comfort to the vomiting girl before Sarah’s phone was picked up in a screech of metal against concrete.

“Hello? Who’s this?”

“Catie?”

“OH FUC- I mean hello, Mr King,” she muttered sheepishly.

“Is Sarah alright?”

Catie hesitated briefly. “She’s had a lot of alcohol, unfortunately. She’s just vomited all over the karaoke booth. Tyasha’s with her now trying to sort it all out. Why are you calling Sarah?”

“I didn’t,” said Jareth in exasperation. “She drunk dialled me.”

“Ohhhh shit. I hope she didn’t say anything too incriminating.”

“Only that she wants to ride my massively large dick into oblivion.”

“She’s in so much fucking shit, isn’t she?”

“That remains to be seen. How are you all getting home?”

“I’m not sure. Tyasha’s getting the bouncer to help carry Sarah out, but she’s pretty close to passing out on us.”

Jareth sighed, knowing that he would regret this in the morning as he rolled out of bed and reached for his trousers. “Don’t go anywhere, I’m coming to take you all home.”

* * *

Before Sarah realised what he was doing, she could only stare, her mouth parted in wordless surprise as Jareth sank to his knees before her. His eyes locked firmly on hers, a wicked smile tugged at his sinful lips as his hands covered her hips, nimble fingers tracing intricate patterns on her soft skin before guiding one of her legs over his shoulder.

“Jareth,” she protested, a pretty blush staining her cheeks as all of the pieces finally clicked into place. “You don’t have to –“ The rest of the sentence was lost to the little whimper that escaped, unbidden, from her lips as Jareth pressed his own lips to her cunt in an open mouthed kiss.

“I can assure you, Precious,” he murmured huskily, settling his hands on her backside to hold her steady and giving her rump a healthy squeeze. His eyes blazed with desire as he turned his head to strew kisses over the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, the strands of his soft, downy hair brushing against her core and only serving to heighten her already over sensitised body. “I very much want to.” His gaze still locked firmly on her own, Jareth licked a broad stripe from her entrance to her clit with the flat of his tongue before closing his plush lips around the tiny bundle of nerves and suckling gently.

Sarah’s knees buckled, unable to support her own body weight and she wound her hands into Jareth’s hair – whether to keep him there or prevent herself from falling, she wasn’t certain – enjoying the sensation of his hair running through her fingers like the finest silk. Jareth grinned wickedly, the tips of his pointed canines just visible as his mouth parted and Sarah swore that she could feel a fresh trickle of desire pool low in her stomach at the sight of Jareth King kneeling at her feet, his sinful mouth working its magic between her legs. He eased a finger inside her tight entrance, moaning around her clit at the exquisite feeling of his digit sheathed within the walls of her slick heat and a surge of arousal swept through her throbbing core as her hips began to writhe against his face in earnest.

“That’s it, Precious,” he murmured, his pupils blown wide as he pulled back to watch her come apart above him and his soft words of encouragement that he whispered like a prayer against her heated skin almost made her climax there and then. “Ride my face.” 

The soft sounds of protest that she made when Jareth withdrew his fingers would have been highly embarrassing at any other time given what they were currently doing, but her complaints were suddenly cut short as Jareth buried his face between her legs once more and began to fuck her with his tongue.

“Oh, God,” she whimpered, tugging just a little too enthusiastically at Jareth’s hair and tearing a grunt out of him as the feeling of his skilful tongue buried deep inside her cunt wracked her body with excruciating waves of pleasure and she ground her aching core harder against Jareth’s mouth.

“Not quite,” he smirked, pulling back once more, his chin absolutely soaked and glistening with her slick. “Touch yourself for me, Sarah-mine,” he growled, nipping teasingly at her clit and causing her eyes to roll back in her head. “Need you to come on my tongue.”

Sarah shuddered at his filthy words, knowing she was close but needing a little extra stimulation to send her crashing over the edge. Jareth’s eyes glazed over in desire as she brought her fingers to her swollen clit and he moaned when her inner walls clenched around his tongue and the vibrations that ricocheted through her cunt in waves became almost too much to bear. “Come for me, Precious.”

Sarah screamed her release into the stillness of the empty room, her body writhing with the intensity of her orgasm. Jareth continued to lap at her folds, catching up every last drop of her spend with his tongue and teasing her through the aftershocks, painstakingly drawing out the pleasure for as long as possible. She began to babble, trying to push Jareth away when her body became too sensitised, but he dug his fingers firmly into her backside to keep his mouth on her.

Her legs finally unable to support her, Sarah sank to the floor, her heart beating a furious tattoo in her chest. She was barely aware of Jareth practically purring as he sucked her juices from his fingers and wiped her slick from his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes glittering and dangerous as he pulled her unresisting body into his lap. “That’s my good girl,” he crooned. “Go and take a shower,” he murmured, pressing a kiss into her hair, acting like nothing was out of the ordinary even after having his mouth between her legs and feasting on her cunt like a man half starved. “I’ll have breakfast ready when you’re finished.”

Sarah blushed, her eyes dropping to his impressive erection that was straining insistently and practically begging to be taken care of. “But – but what about you? Aren’t you going to join me?”

“Why Sarah,” he replied with a wolfish grin, “If we shower together I guarantee that there would be very little chance of us actually getting clean."

* * *

Sarah stood nervously in the doorway of Jareth’s kitchen, her fingers twisting in the hem of the borrowed shirt and exposing more of her creamy thigh than was necessarily respectable after drunkenly propositioning your boss and getting enthusiastically eaten out to within an inch of your life. Despite the fact that Jareth had already gotten up close and personal with her most intimate areas, Sarah had drawn the line at dining naked with her boss, knowing that if she did she would undoubtedly end up becoming the feast.

_Would that be so bad, Sarah?_ piped up her subconscious dreamily, still highly strung out on endorphins from her admittedly mind shattering orgasm. _Take your clothes off!_

Unfortunately for Sarah, when she had finished her shower, her filthy clothes were nowhere to be seen and she could only assume that Jareth was currently washing them. She had clothed her nakedness with one of his shirts, lamenting about the fact that she would be joining him for breakfast sans panties, especially when Jareth was currently standing at the stove frying up bacon and eggs for their breakfast, clothed in an immaculately tailored suit which did nothing to hide his incredible physique. Seriously, did the man wear a suit while carrying out household chores? Did he even own a pair of sweatpants?

Despite being his Personal Assistant for the past three years, she had never stepped foot inside his house before and she lamented somewhat that she had yet to receive the grand tour. The kitchen was large and modern, sleek marble countertops and expensive appliances that she was sure had to cost more than her monthly salary. The cupboards were painted a soft grey, ending in a breakfast bar currently set for two.

Jareth had just finished plating up their food when he realised that he had an audience. He turned to greet her with a sly smile and Sarah squirmed under his feral gaze as his eyes raked over her before crossing the kitchen to where she stood, a predatory gleam in his eye when he leaned in to brush a kiss against her cheek.

“About last night,” she began slowly, unable to look him in the eye. “I completely understand if you fire me on the spot, or at the very least, turn me into HR and let them deal with it. I was absolutely shit-faced when I called you last night, but I should never have ripped off your clothing and tried to coerce you into having sex with me. It was beyond the pale and I’m ready to face the consequences of my actions.”

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Jareth chuckled, tucking his fingers under her chin and forcing her to meet his gaze. “Et tu, Sarah? I just licked my Personal Assistant’s delicious cunt until she came all over my face and you’re worried about being sued for sexual harassment?”

“So you’re not going to fire me?”

Jareth shook his head, “No I’m not. Quid pro quo.” He hummed appreciatively as he fingered the hem of his shirt curiously. “I must admit I could get used to you joining me for breakfast wearing nothing but my shirt.”

Sarah spluttered in response, her face scarlet with embarrassment but she was cut off from snapping a retort at him when he pressed a steaming cup into her hands. “What’s this?”

Jareth rolled his eyes at her, placing her hand on her lower back and guiding her to the breakfast bar. “Good Lord, Sarah, and here I thought that you were intelligent." He offered his hand to help her perch awkwardly on the high barstool before sitting beside her, and Sarah fought the urge to squirm in her seat at the feeling of the expensive material of his suit trousers encasing his powerful thighs and pressed against her own bare legs. “It’s peppermint tea with honey,” he continued, pulling two plates piled high with bacon and eggs towards them.

  
Sarah took a tentative sip from her cup, her eyebrows raised in surprise before tucking into her own breakfast and moaning softly around a mouthful of delicious food. “Seriously, though, how do you know how I take my tea?”

“You have been my Personal Assistant for almost three years. What I know about you might surprise you.”

In spite of herself, Sarah raised an eyebrow in challenge. “Is that so? And what else do you know about me?”

“I know what you sound like when you come,” he shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee and patting Sarah helpfully on the back when she choked on her bacon. “I’ve seen the beautiful faces that you make when I’m fucking you with my tongue. I know what you taste like when you come all over my face.”

Sarah yanked Jareth down by his tie and pressed her mouth to his, moaning softly as his lips parted under hers and he traced his tongue along her lower lip, begging for entrance. They panted as they finally broke apart, gasping for air, the remains of their breakfast forgotten in lieu of the sexually charged atmosphere that hung between them. 

“Bed,” she growled, “Now.”


	3. The Dickening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the third and final instalment of what was originally meant to be a one shot. Thank you for reading and I hope that you enjoy the grand finale. I think that we can all agree that Sarah is a very lucky girl.

When Jareth pulled up beside the kerb outside the small, dingy pub thirty minutes later, he almost regrets his decision to be a gentleman and drive Sarah and her friends home. As he stepped out into the frigid night air he shivered, pulling his navy blue peacoat tighter around his body. He quickly spotted Tyasha and Catie huddled against the wall, an unconscious Sarah supported between them, and he pushed his way through the crowd of drunkards staggering from the pub. His lip curled in distaste as many patrons stumbled into him, a few women – and men – attempting to run their hands appreciatively over any part of him that they could reach. He practically has to untangle a salivating middle aged, bald man with a beer belly from his arm who thought that he was Tina Turner and was trying to run his hands through Jareth’s hair.

“How much has she had?”

“We lost count after the fourth shot of tequila. She’s usually such a lightweight but for some reason, tequila always makes her a little feisty,” replied Tyasha, grimacing as Sarah’s head fell onto her shoulder and gagging slightly as she was hit with the full force of Sarah’s tequila breath.

“And horny.”

Catie snorted, shifting her friend’s weight as Sarah leaned heavily against her. “Can we get her in your car already? She’s pretty dead weight here.”

“Give her to me.”

Jareth slipped his arms under Sarah’s knees and around her shoulders, cradling her against his chest as Tyasha and Catie breathed a sigh of relief and surrendered their friend into his embrace. He was grateful for their assistance when they settled Sarah into the back seat of his car, managing to buckle her in securely while Catie and Tyasha argued amongst themselves and played a furious game of rock, paper, scissors to see who will accompany Sarah and potentially get puked on.

Catie sulked in the back seat next to Sarah, eyeing her friend with apprehension every time Sarah moaned and shifted restlessly in her sleep, and Jareth took pity on her and offered to drive her home first. When they finally pulled up outside Tyasha’s apartment twenty minutes later after dropping Catie off, Jareth glanced in the rear-view mirror to find Sarah still dead to the world and panic caused his heart to skip a beat when he realised that he does not even know Sarah’s address. He called out to Tyasha’s retreating back, frowning when she smirked over her shoulder and continued to walk away from him without providing the vital information.

Jareth’s head fell back against his seat with a frustrated thump, running a hand over his weary face as he glanced back at Sarah once more and started the engine with a muttered curse under his breath, hoping that Sarah does not make his life a complete hell in the morning.

He somehow managed to unlock his door one handed with Sarah still passed out in his arms, shucking off his shoes by the door and locking it securely behind them. He averted his eyes like a gentleman as he lay Sarah down on the bed in the spare room, pulling off her soiled clothing and replacing it with a shirt of his own. He thanks his lucky stars that Sarah remained asleep, grateful that she doesn’t wake up to give him a verbal tongue lashing or worse, slap him for undressing her.

There is a reason, however, that Jareth is not a gambling man and unfortunately that reason is simply that he knows when he is shit out of luck. His eyes linger just a touch too long on her sleeping face before tucking the comforter securely around her and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Sweet dreams, Sarah-mine.” As he attempted to sneak from his own guest bedroom like a thief in the night, Sarah’s hand clamped around his arm in a vice like grip and he stumbled, throwing out his hands to prevent himself from falling.

He doesn’t quite know how Sarah managed it, but before Jareth can even blink or wonder what the fuck he did in his past life to deserve this, he finds himself tugged into bed beside her, Sarah’s hands frantically tearing at her clothing and his despite her drunken state. Jareth tried to scramble out of bed when Sarah attempted to straddle him, promising to ride his dick into oblivion while she frantically ground against his thigh, but the tequila had unfortunately gifted her with the strength of five men with the horniness to match. Jareth finally managed to subdue Sarah enough to stop her from making good on her promise, her back pressed against his chest and his arms clamped around her body in an effort to keep her wandering hands to herself. Jareth groaned and buried his face into her hair as her breathing finally began to even out and he can only hope that his raging erection, pressed insistently against Sarah’s backside, subsides enough to finally let him get some rest, although he knows that sleep will be long in claiming him tonight.

* * *

CATIE: SARAH, WHERE ARE YOU?

TYASHA: Mr King never showed up for work today either…

CATIE: FUCKING FINALLY!

TYASHA: Did he dick you to death? Should we call the Police?

CATIE: I just want to know how big his pee pee is.

TYASHA: Did he put you through the headboard?

CATIE: Did you wear a crash helmet?

TYASHA: Did you use protection?

CATIE: Do you have a concussion?

TYASHA: Make sure he wraps his dick.

CATIE: I don’t even care that it’s 9.30am, we’ve opened the back-up emergency gin.

TYASHA: We’re so fucking proud of you.

CATIE: OUR LITTLE BABY IS ALL GROWN UP AND GETTING LAAAAID

TYASHA: 8===D -- -- --

* * *

Unfortunately, Jareth and Sarah never made it as far as the bedroom. Soft pants and longing moans fill the air, a hungry clash of hands and mouths as clothing is shed and skin is revealed. Sarah gasped as Jareth nipped at her earlobe with sharp teeth, trailing a blazing path of kisses down the delicate column of her throat. 

Jareth wedged his thigh between her own, his fingers pressing into her hips as he rocked Sarah against him, her skin flushed a pretty pink from the heat and wetness that is already beginning to form at her core. Sarah’s head fell back when Jareth bent to pepper kisses along the tops of her breasts, his pointed teeth scraping against her collarbone before finally taking the rosy tip of her nipple into his mouth and sucking gently. Her body is on fire. She is lost, drowning in the sensation of Jareth’s hands on her body, mapping a secret trail with his fingers to follow with his lips.

They have only made it as far as the dining room, but Sarah knows if she doesn’t have him right here and now, she might genuinely die.

Jareth’s mouth parted wordlessly when Sarah placed a hand on his chest, pushing him down onto a dining chair and sinking to her knees before him to settle her body into the cradle of his hips. Her eyes are blown wide at the sight of his sizeable girth straining eagerly towards her face and she licked her lips with nervous excitement before wrapping her hand around the base of his cock. His eyes are fire and steel, his breath coming in short gasps as Sarah began to stroke him, her thumb swirling over the sensitive head with each upstroke. Jareth held her gaze for as long as he could, but when Sarah licked a long stripe along the prominent vein on the underside of his shaft, he threw his head back with a sharp hiss.

She feels so fucking powerful as she encircles his tip with her mouth, sucking gently and relishing in the moans and pants as he comes apart above her. He is so beautiful, a strong man wrapped up in preternatural _wildness_ and she wants to ruin him for all other women, wants her name to be the only one that he cries in the heat of passion.Her eyes flicker open to watch his reaction, his thighs quivering and a tremor wracking through his body as she began to suck a little harder, coating his cock with her saliva and working her hand in firm pumps along his shaft. He is bigger, far bigger than anyone that she has ever been with before, and her jaw is a little sore as she worked him slowly into her mouth. His hands rested tentatively in her hair and he lifted his head to watch as she began to swallow him as best she could, looking absolutely wrecked as he watched his cock disappear into her wet heat, her cheeks hollowing as she began to suck him in earnest.

Sarah knew that he was close; her name falling from his lips with divine reverence, torn between praising her skilful mouth and babbling incoherently, half mad with want and lust. She could taste the salty precum already gathering at his head, could feel his body tense beneath her hands as he twitched against her tongue and it was then, seconds before he reached his completion, that Sarah let Jareth slip from her mouth.

She would always cherish the defeated look upon Jareth’s face, his eyes filled with betrayal and disbelief as she stood up, smirking when he growled and tugged her to straddle him with his hands on her hips and teeth nipping at her throat. Sarah shuddered when he slipped a hand between their bodies, groaning when his thick finger pressed against her centre to find her already impossibly wet and ready for him and he took himself in hand to notch his tip at her entrance.

“You,” Jareth muttered, sharp teeth scraping along her pulse point as he sank slowly into her, gritting his teeth as he filled her, her silken heat the most exquisite torture as her tight channel fluttered around him. “Are the most stubborn –“ He bit back a groan at the feeling of being finally – _finally –_ buried deep inside her, their bodies a perfect fit, almost as if they were made for each other.

Jareth swallowed Sarah’s moans with his mouth when she gasped, her hands flying to his shoulders, his fingertips leaving punishing bruises on her delicate skin as he effortlessly moved her body over him, above him. He thrusts up into her excruciatingly slowly, withdrawing almost completely before sheathing himself to the hilt, “- Woman that I have ever met.” Sarah bucked against his body, writhing against him as he worked her roughly along his shaft, alternating between snapping his hips up to meet hers and dragging himself against her quivering walls with an aching slowness that stole her breath away.

Sarah rolled her hips over him, tearing a long drawn out moan from Jareth’s lips, his head thrown back and she pressed desperate kisses to his throat, his nose, his mouth as she rocked against him, desperately seeking the friction that her body craved. Jareth’s head fell forward onto her shoulder, his lips scattering soft kisses across her collarbone and the tops of her breasts as he sucked a taut nipple into her mouth, setting a punishing rhythm as his hips moved in tandem with his tongue. Sarah knew that she was close, could feel the tight coiling of pleasure low in her belly and she wound her fingers tightly in his hair, tugging his lips to hers just as his fingers reached between them to thumb at her clit. Suddenly, she is shattering and shaking above him as her orgasm wracks through her, dragging her heart forward like an undertow, and she called out for him, sobbing his name in earnest as his thumb pressed firmly against her clit, drawing out her climax until she is babbling and pleading and incoherent with pleasure.

Sarah could only cling to him, deliriously limp and pliant, lost in the aftershocks of her orgasm as he used her body for his own pleasure until his rhythm began to falter, sharp gasps and low grunts dragged from his lips as his hips stuttered against hers. He buried his face in her neck when he finally came, his breathing shaky and his body trembling and her name a whispered prayer falling from his lips.

Jareth pressed a shaky kiss into her hair, holding her and murmuring soft words of praise as they struggled to catch their breath. He cradled Sarah against his chest, fingers stroking gently through her hair and there was no need for words as their hearts skipped and beat and raced together, and Jareth lifted his hand to cup Sarah’s cheek, losing himself in the feeling of her body in his arms and the press of her mouth against his.

* * *

“I FUCKING KNEW IT.”  
  
Sarah winced, dropping Jareth’s hand as Catie cannonballed into her stomach, knocking the wind out of her. They have barely been in the office two fucking seconds when Sarah is assaulted by her friends, demanding to know all of the sordid details of their intense affair that had resulted in them finally making it to Jareth’s bed after two more rounds of sex around his house. Sarah wasn’t even sure that she would ever be able to look at his couch in the same way ever again after being bent over it and having Jareth’s tongue buried deep in her cunt from behind. She really wasn’t looking forward to even attempting to sit down and find a comfortable position for the next eight hours of her work day. “I know you were getting shagged to within an inch of your life, but next time at least have the courtesy to answer our fucking text messages.”

“We thought Jareth had murdered you when we hadn’t heard from you – no offence,” Tyasha added hastily as Jareth tilted his head to the side, a bemused expression tugging at his lips. Her sharp gaze drifted over Sarah’s throat, her eyes narrowed in suspicion as they trace the angry bruises that form lingering imprints of Jareth’s mouth and teeth on her delicate skin that she thought she had done a pretty good job covering up with make-up. Unfortunately, her friends’ bloodhound like detective skills put even Poirot himself to shame.

Catie turned to address the office staff who are currently doing a pretty piss poor job of trying not to look like they were attempting to eavesdrop on their conversation and cleared her throat. “Everyone, I propose a toast!” Sarah’s brow furrowed in confusion as Catie seemed to pull yet another bottle of gin from thin air as if by magic and took a pre-emptive swig, and she vowed to find her friend’s seemingly endless supply of gin if it was the last thing that she ever did. “To Sarah, who finally rode Jareth’s stupidly large dick into oblivion.”

“CATIE!” Sarah sank into her office chair, fighting the urge to yelp at the soreness between her legs and buried her face in her hands.

“So, who won the betting pool?” asked an annoyingly, nasal voice, and Sarah peeked between her fingers just in time to see Dirty Dave rubbing his hands together and eyeing Sarah and Jareth with a hunger that could only be described as too many nights of jerking off to aquatic porn of an extremely disturbing nature.

Sarah frowned, glancing at her friends who were extracting a well-worn, battered piece of dog-eared paper from Tyasha’s desk drawer. “What betting pool?”

Tyasha waved an airy hand in Sarah’s direction as she smoothed out the list and the entire office gathered around curiously. “Oh, we’ve been taking bets for almost three years on how you and Jareth would finally get together.”

  
“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

Catie leaned over Tyasha’s shoulder to scan the list. “Well, we can rule out crazy, octopus sex seeing as how they don’t seem to have suddenly sprouted tentacles.”

Sarah blinked.

Dave pouted, muttering under his breath as he slunk away miserably, clearly not in the mood to stick around and find out the winner.

Tyasha frowned. “I’m not sure anyone actually won – wait, hang on, who’s David Jones? Do we even have anyone called David Jones who works here? He predicted that they would get together after Jareth picked Sarah up from the pub.”

“That would be me,” said Jareth cheerfully. He glanced around at the incredulous faces. “I couldn’t very well use my real name, could I?”

Catie folded her arms across her chest and glanced shrewdly between Sarah and Jareth before glancing back at the paper in Tyasha’s hands. “Wait a minute, I smell a rat. How did Jareth know – eighteen months ago – that he would take Sarah home after a drunken night out?”

Sarah blushed, unable to meet her friends’ gazes, but Jareth grinned wickedly. “Because, Sarah has been drunk dialling me for almost two years.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you all enjoyed it! Please leave kudos and comments!


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